



V.<^ 









.^^'•^-^ 



OPEN BOATS 



BY 



ALFRED I^^OYES 

Author of " The Lord of Misrule^ 
"Sherwood," ''Drake," etc. 




NEW YORK 
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 



;b^] 



PUBLISHERS 



(2o|yy 



V 



Copyright, iqi6, by 
Alfred Noyes 



Copyright, igi7, by 
Frederick A. Stokes Company 



AU Rights Reserved 



PROLOGUE 

WIRELESS 

Now to those who search the deep — 
Gleam of Hope and Kindly Light, 

Once, before you turn to sleep, 

Breathe a message through the night 

Never doubt that they'll receive it. 
Send it, once, and you'll believe it. 

Think you these aerial wires 
Whisper more than spirits may? 

Think you that our strong desires 
Touch no distance when we pray? 

Think you that no wings are flying 
'Twixt the living and the dying? 

Inland, here, upon your knees, 
You shall breathe from urgent lips 

Round the ships that guard your seas 
Fleet on fleet of angel ships; 
iii 



iv PROLOGUE 

Yea, the guarded may so bless them 
That no terrors can distress them. 

You shall guide the darkling prow, 
Kneeling — thus — and far inland; 

You shall touch the storm-beat brow. 
Gently as a spirit-hand. 

Even a blindfold prayer may speed them, 
And a little child may lead them. 



OPEN BOATS 

CHAPTER I 
OPEN BOATS 

The ebb and flow of this war 
necessarily pass beyond the range 
of any man's vision. From inci- 
dents that we are able to visualize 
completely — the solitary spar 
tossed up by the wave — we obtain 
chies to the moving epic beyond 
our ken. One mutilated face tells 
us more than all the swarming 
casualty columns; and a little 
wreckage touches the whole At- 
lantic with tragedy. 

For intense drama, doubly sig- 
nificant because its horror is un- 
seen, drowned in the deep reticence 



2 OPEN BOATS 

of the sea, it would be difficult to 
match the following passage from 
the log-book of a British merchant 
ship: — 

''At this time and position we 
passed through a quantity of wreck- 
age, apparently from a small vessel, 
and consisting of small lining hoards, 
painted white, a small companion 
hatch-cover, a small ladder, several 
seamen's chests, and a small empty 
boat. There were many tins amongst 
the wreckage, apparently petrol tins, 
floating deep, some painted red and 
some green. They had not been long 
in the water,'' 

Then, in a single grim sentence, 
giving the key as if with dehberate 
art, the log-book closes : — 

''At 11:^0 a,m, the master ob- 
served the top of a periscope," 

Many hundreds of times during 



OPEN BOATS 3 

the last two years those tragic little 
patches have marked the face of 
the waters; and the sun shines as 
indifferently over them as over 
the tiny gray tufts of feathers on 
Dartmoor, where the hawk has 
pounced upon his prey. My 
present concern is chiefly with the 
small "open boats" to which the 
"U" boats, on some occasions, 
consign passengers and crews (men, 
women and children) after sinking 
their ships at sea. Certainly no 
tale in the long annals of our sea- 
adventure is fraught with more 
pity and terror. 

The provision made by inter- 
national law for the safety of pas- 
sengers and crews of merchant 
ships, belligerent or neutral, has 
proved to be as ready an instru- 
ment of frightfulness as the pro- 



4 OPEN BOATS 

vision devised to protect sleeping 
children, in open cities, from mid- 
night murder. Circumstances are 
always found to justify whatever 
the law-breaker may desire to do. 
If he desires to put men, women, 
and children into open boats, a 
hundred miles from land, in a 
comparatively calm sea, it is ob- 
viously not his fault that — ^six 
hours later — a storm should rise 
and trample them under. He has 
left them at all distances from 
land, some only a few miles and 
others many score, in the Mediter- 
ranean and in the Atlantic. He 
attacked the Umeta without warn- 
ing; and one of her crowded open 
boats was left adrift in the depth 
of winter, from December i to 5. 
One man died of thirst and ex- 
posure. How many people realize 



OPEN BOATS 5 

the full meaning of that simple 
fact? 

The tale of the Cottingham is a 
typical one. She was owned in 
Glasgow, rigged as a fore and aft 
schooner, built of steel at Goole, 
and bound from Rouen to Swansea. 
On Sunday, December 26, at 4 
o'clock in the afternoon, with a 
south-west wind blowing and a 
choppy sea, she was about 16 miles 
south-west of Lundy Island South 
Light, and sailing at about eight 
and a half knots. Without any 
warning, a shell passed directly 
over the vessel, and the report of 
a gun was heard. Looking astern, 
the master saw the periscope and 
conning-tower of a submarine, dead 
in the wake of the ship, about a 
mile distant. The Cottingham 
kept on her course. A second 



6 OPEN BOATS 

shell went over her, and the sub- 
marine began to overhaul the ship 
very rapidly, coming up on the 
starboard quarter. A signal was 
now seen flying on the submarine, 
"Abandon ship,'* and a third shell 
struck the Cottingham on the star- 
board bow. 

The engines were stopped, and 
all hands were called to the boats, 
which were promptly lowered. 
There were six men in the master's 
boat, and seven men in that of the 
chief officer. This was about 4:30 
p.m. The boats pulled away clear, 
while the shelling continued. 
There were 10 or 12 shells fired. 
Darkness was coming on, and the 
ship was not seen to sink. 

The master's boat went away 
before the wind and sea, steering 
north-east. Signals by red fights 



OPEN BOATS 7 

were made to the other boat, which 
replied to two signals, but did not 
answer the third. The boats lost 
touch with each other about 6 
o'clock. The master assumed, 
however, that the other boat was 
following the same course, and 
steered for Lundy Island. Lights 
were seen a few hours later, and 
signals were again made by red 
flares. The patrol-boat Soar 
loomed up out of the dark, and 
the crew of the master's boat were 
taken aboard at 10.30 p.m. 

The Soar then cruised round, 
searching the pitchy seas far and 
wide, but nothing was seen of the 
other boat, with the seven missing 
men. 

The end of this brief summary 
of a thousand cases is told best, 
perhaps, in a telegram from St. 



8 OPEN BOATS 

David's, and even the telegram 
suggests a second tragedy: — 

Begins: — "Lifeboat named Cot- 
tingham, of Glasgow, washed 
ashore at Portliskey, bottom up, 
broke to pieces on rocks, also life- 
buoy marked S.S. Ministre 
An vers" — ends. 

The case of the Diomed would 
be pretty good evidence for the 
prosecution in that remote court 
of international law at which most 
of us agree to scoff, and thereby 
lend immeasurable support to the 
tenets of Germany. The Diomed 
was a schooner of some 3,000 tons, 
built of steel at Greenock, and 
bound from Liverpool to Shanghai 
with a general cargo. On August 
22, the weather being fine and 
clear, with a shght sea, she was 
sailing at full speed about 30 miles 



OPEN BOATS 9 

west of the Scilly Islands. At 
945 a.m. a submarine was sighted 
about six miles distant on the port 
beam. The helm was ported at 
once, to bring the submarine 
astern. 

At about 11.45 ^•^* the sub- 
marine opened fire. She was then 
three miles away. The shots fell 
short till 1.45, when they began 
to fall ahead of the ship, and 
at last to strike her. They 
struck her very systematically. 
First, they smashed up the stern, 
then the forepart of the ship, and 
then — lest any ** place of safety" 
should remain — they began to 
break up the bridge. The sub- 
marine flew no signals. The third 
steward was dropped, in a red 
lump, on the forepart of the ship. 
The master and quarter-master 



10 OPEN BOATS 

were killed outright on the bridge, 
and the chief officer seriously 
wounded. The bridge now looked 
like a cross-section of a slaughter 
house, greased with blood. 

The second mate then ordered 
the ship to be stopped and aban- 
doned; for she was obviously sink- 
ing. She carried four boats, of 
which the two on the portside had 
been smashed by shell-fire, a mat- 
ter into which submarines do not 
inquire too closely when they are 
committing the bodies of the Kving 
to the deep. 

A steady pounding of this kind, 
however, with all its hideous ac- 
companiment of wounds and death 
and bloody wreckage, induces 
haste in the hardiest of merchant 
crews. One of the two boats on 
the starboard side was "holed": 



OPEN BOATS II 

but they did not notice it till after 
she was lowered, when, promptly 
filling up with good green sea 
water and 20 floundering, wild- 
eyed men, she capsized. 

The crew swam round her, or 
clung to her sides, while the other 
starboard boat fought with its own 
difficulties. Just after it had 
reached the water there was a 
violent explosion in the engine- 
room of the Diomed, which threw 
up a great wave and half filled this 
boat also. The crew baled her as 
hastily as possible, in order to 
come to the rescue of the men in 
the sea. The maddening night- 
mare-like confusion of these 
moments can only be imagined. 

At last they were able to pick 
up the men who were swimming. 
Those who were clinging to the 



12 OPEN BOATS 

damaged boat were left, as they 
were **safe" for the time being. 
There were about 34 men in the 
undamaged boat. 

All this time, it must be re- 
membered, the Diomed was sink- 
ing. The men had hardly been 
taken from the water when she 
went down with a rush. The waves 
closed over her, and these wrecked 
men were left alone with their 
enemies on the naked sea. 

The submarine rendered them 
no help of any kind. The com- 
mander looked at the men in the 
water and shook his fist at them, 
saying something in German. 
Then he closed the hatch, and the 
submarine submerged, leaving 
them to their own devices. 

The second mate headed the 
undamaged boat for the Irish 



OPEN BOATS 13 

coast; and at about 6 o'clock in 
the evening he hailed a destroyer, 
which foamed through the dusk to 
the scene of the wreck. There, 
long after dark, they picked up 
the survivors on the capsized boat. 
But seven men had dropped off in 
sheer exhaustion and had been 
drowned; and five of these were 
neutrals. 

Few of us at home realize the 
intensity of this ocean-drama in 
which our merchant seamen, night 
and day, are risking their lives to 
keep our sea-roads open. A few 
lines of cold print can tell us very 
little by way of epitaph; and their 
hair-breadth escapes are — in the 
nature of things — hardly noted at 
all. Only by exploring incidental 
matters, that are not included in 
the published reports, does one 



14 OPEN BOATS 

begin to realize that there are 
sea-romances in the world around 
us surpassing anything that Hak- 
luyt or Richard Eden ever knew. 
The tale of the unarmed Anglo- 
Californian, for instance, was 
illuminated for me by the explo- 
ration of a record of her wireless 
messages. These, in themselves, 
tell a tale which, in the days be- 
fore the war, we should have dis- 
missed as beyond the wildest 
dreams of melodrama. 

The Anglo-Californian was 
homeward bound from Montreal 
to Avonmouth, with a cargo of 
927 horses. She was chased and 
shelled by a submarine. She sent 
out wireless calls, and was 
answered by a man-of-war, beyond 
the horizon. 

The firing grew so hot that, when 



OPEN BOATS 15 

the submarine signaled ''abandon 
ship," the captain decided to obey. 
He stopped the engines, and two 
boats were lowered. One was fired 
on, and both capsized. 

A wireless message was then 
received telling the captain to hold 
on as long as possible, and he 
decided to go on again. He had 
some difficulty in persuading the 
firemen to go down below; but he 
was probably helped by the way 
in which the submarine had treated 
their "places of safety." As soon 
as the ship went on the submarine 
opened fire on the bridge and boats. 
The captain and eight hands were 
killed; seven hands were badly 
wounded, and 20 horses were killed. 

I shall not attempt to paint that 
picture — the smoke, the confusion, 
the changes of command, the con- 



1 6 OPEN BOATS 

cussions, the neighings of the 
horses, the pounding of the 
engines. But, with all that as a 
background, and the single state- 
ment that the wireless operator 
was in an exposed position just 
abaft the bridge and remained at 
his post throughout, let the reader 
study for himself the amazing 
melodrama of this wireless con- 
versation between the Anglo-Cali- 
fornian and the invisible men-of- 
war rushing up beyond the sky- 
line. 

"S.O.S., S.O.S., being chased by 
submarine. S.O.S. Position Lati- 
tude so-and-so N. Longitude so- 
and-so W., steering so-and-so." 

**Go ahead. He is being led a 
dance, and it is O.K. to work for a 
few minutes. Now altering course 
to south." 



OPEN BOATS 17 

"Are you the Cryptic? He is 
rapidly overtaking us/* 

** Yes. Steer so-and-so and keep 
me informed." 

"That is impossible. We are 
being fired on." 

"Where is submarine?" 

"Now astern." 

"Endeavor to carry out instruc- 
tions. Important" — 

"Can't. He is now on top of 
us, and I can hear his shots hitting 
us." 

"On your port?" 

"Submarine on top of us and 
hitting us. Captain says steering 
so-and-so. If he alters course will 
endanger ship." 

"Did you get message from 
Cryptic?" This was an invisible 
destroyer speaking from a new point 
of the compass, 40 miles away. 



1 8 OPEN BOATS 

** Don't know who he is. Believe 
it is Sphinx." 

**No. Cryptic said something 
about approaching you.'* 

" I can't hear him." 

"Steer as much east as possible." 
This was Cryptic resuming her 
long-distance instructions and 
cross-examination with the calm 
of a doctor addressing a nervous 
patient. 

*'If we steer east, we shall have 
submarine abeam. We can't do it." 

"Please give Cryptic your 
speed." 

"Twelve knots." 

"Can see your smoke. Hold 
on. Funnel red and blue bands 
with yellow star. We are making 
your smoke." 

"According to your position I 
am nine miles off you." 



OPEN BOATS 19 

"We are the Anglo-Californian." 

"Have you many passengers?" 

"No. But we are 150 men on 
board. Crew." 

"Please fire rocket to verify posi- 
tion. What is position of sub- 
marine?" 

"Right astern, firing at wire- 
less." 

"Let me have your position 
frequently." 

"Now firing our rockets." Sub- 
marine signals. "Abandon vessel 
as soon as possible." 

"As a last resource, can you 
ram? She will then give in. Can 
you see my smoke north-east of 

you?" 

"No. No. She is too close. 
We are stopped, and blowing off." 

It was at this point that the 
captain apparently wavered be- 



20 OPEN BOATS . 

tween abandoning his ship and 
going on. The reader will note 
the subtle distinctions in the fol- 
lowing dialogue: — The Anglo-Cal- 
ifornian, as an unarmed ship, being 
chiefly anxious to escape, while 
the man-of-war is anxious also to 
bag the submarine, if possible. 
The sea was still naked of help, 
though beyond the horizon the 
great ships were foaming up at full 
speed. It was the encouragement 
of the wireless rather than a faint 
wisp of smoke on the sky-line that 
persuaded the captain to continue 
the struggle. 

**Can see you distinctly,*' called 
the Cryptic. "Am about south- 
west from you. Hold on." 

**Yes. Yes. He is running 
away." 

*Tn what direction?" 



OPEN BOATS 21 

"He is on the port side, we are 
between you and him. Hurry, 
hurry, hurry, he is getting abeam 
to torpedo us." 

''I am coming.'* 

**We are keeping him astern 



now." 




"O.K. 


Endeavor to keep his 


attention. 


You will be quite safe 


when 


>> 



"Your signals are weak." 
"How are you steering?" 
"I can't find out how we are 
steering. It is zig-zag." 

"Tell captain to steer straight." 
(The zig-zag course was wrong, as 
the submarine was astern.) "How 
many masts have you?" 

" For God's sake hurry up. Fir- 
ing Hke blazes." 

"How many masts?" 

"Can't read you. Concussion." 



22 OPEN BOATS 

**How many masts have you?" 

*'Two — two — one funnel. I see 
you on our port beam." 

"O.K. Keep quiet as though 
we were only coming to your 
assistance, and nothing else." 

"Keeping him astern. Hurry 

"P;" 

"We are firing. Can you inform 
result?" 

"Can hear you. Several being 
wounded. Shrapnel, I believe." 

"Keep men below, or those on 
deck lie face down." 

"All taking shelter in front of 
bridge-houses. He is firing shell." 

"Have you two or four masts in 
all?" 

"Two masts and one funnel." 

"What speed?" 

"Twelve, twelve, and submarine 
keeping pace. He is still very 



OPEN BOATS 23 

close within 200 yards. Captain 
wants to know if you will fire to 
scare him/' 

"Firing to scare him. Please 
head towards me." 

"We can't. You are astern and 
so is submarine." 

"Head for us in round about 
south. If submarine is only 200 
yards astern put ropes astern and 
tow in order to foul his propellers. 
Can you see my smoke?" 

And again another ship anxious- 
ly repeats the question: — "Cryptic 
wants to know if you can see his 
smoke." 

"Yes, yes, a long w^ay off. Can 
see your smoke astern." 

"What bearing? What has 
happened to you?" 

"They can't tell what bearing. 
Now sinking." 



24 OPEN BOATS 

*'Are you torpedoed?" 

"Not yet, but shots in plenty 
hitting. Broken glass all round 
me." 

"Stick it, old man." 

"Yes, you bet. Say, the place 
stinks of gunpowder. Am lying 
on the floor." 

" Nothing better, old man. Keep 
your pecker up, old man." 

"Sure thing. Is there anything 
else coming to us, please?" 

"Yes, I am Cryptic. Coming 
full speed, 33 knots." 

"I have had to leave phones. 
Yes, I say I smell gunpowder here 
strong, and am lying on the floor. 
My gear beginning to fly around 
with concussion. Smoke W.N.W. 
of me, there is a man of fight on 
our starboard side and the sub- 
marine is on our port side. Sub- 



OPEN BOATS 25 

marine has dived. Submarine has 
dived." 

** Report her trail at intervals." 

"I hope she stops down there. 
It is getting hot here." 

"We are coming. We are com- 
ing. Have you launched all 
boats?" 

"Yes. Two ships coming. One 
abeam, and one on port quarter. 
Don't worry. He has gone. De- 
stroyers now alongside." 



CHAPTER II 
SEA SAVAGERY 

Two telegrams begin this 
winter's tale. The first, to C. in 
C. E. Indies: "Have you any news 
of the S.S. Clan Macfarlane, passed 
Malta on Dec. 27, bound for Port 
Said?" The second, from C. in 
C. E. Indies: **CIan Macfarlane 
has not yet arrived in Egypt." 

The Clan Macfarlane, of the 
Port of Glasgow, was a steamer of 
some 4,000 tons, built of steel, at 
Sunderland. She had a crew of 
seventy-six hands, and a general 
cargo and left Birkenhead on Dec. 
16, 1915. On Dec. 30 at 3.45 p.m., 
26 



SEA SAVAGERY 2-/ 

she was steaming at full speed, 
making an average of ten knots. 
There was a look-out in the crow's- 
nest and two look-outs were on the 
forecastle head. The weather was 
fine and clear. The wind was in 
the w est, blowing moderately, with 
a shght sea. 

The chief officer, Frederick 
James Hawley, had just been 
called, as he was to go on duty 
at four o'clock, when he felt and 
heard a violent explosion. He ran 
on deck and found the upper 
hatches of No. 5 hold and the 
tarpaulins blown out of position. 
They had been battened down on 
leaving Liverpool. 

He gave orders at once to lower 
the boats below the level of the 
harbor deck, and this was done. 
He then sounded No. 5 hold and 



28 OPEN BOATS 

found 1 8 inches of water. He also 
saw the cargo breaking up and 
floating out of the steamer's side. 
She had been struck on the star- 
board side, at No. 5 hatch, below 
the water-line. Hawley then per- 
sonally searched the forecastles to 
make sure that nobody was in 
them. He conferred with the 
master, and they decided to aban- 
don the ship, as she was beginning 
to settle by the stern, and it was 
growing dark. 

At about 5.15 all hands left the 
steamer in six boats, and rowed 
clear. About six o'clock a sub- 
marine appeared from the south- 
ward, and fired six shots into the 
steamer on the port side forward. 
At 6.15 all the boats were made 
fast, astern of the master's boat, 
to keep them together during the 



SEA SAVAGERY 29 

night. A few minutes later the 
submarine came alongside, asked 
for particulars of the steamer, and 
then steered to the eastward. 
After this masts were stepped, sails 
broken out, and a course set for 
Crete, which was thought to be 
fifty-five or sixty miles away. 
They sailed all night. 

In the early hours of New Year's 
morning it fell calm. The boats 
were separated, and the men rowed 
till 10 a.m., when a light northerly 
wind sprang up. They set sail, 
and continued till 5 p.m., when 
the boats were all made fast again 
astern of the master's boat. They 
sailed all night. 

On Jan. 2, at eight o'clock in 
the morning, they made the north- 
east end of Crete, but the wind and 
sea increased, and the boats were 



30 OPEN BOATS 

blown to the south-west, along the 
coast. It was only three or four 
miles distant, but the heavy sea 
made it impossible to land. 

At ten o'clock that night the 
third officer's boat parted the tow- 
rope. The second gunner's boat 
was attached to this one, and they 
were both swallowed up in the 
darkness. The master's boat cast 
off, and went in search of them. 
Hawley's boat lay to with the 
others all night waiting. 

It was a terrible night. There 
were a good many natives of India 
in the boats' crews, and they 
suffered greatly from the exposure. 
One by one, in the dim light of the 
lanterns, pathetically as children, 
they gave up the fight for life, 
and slipped into the water that 
swilled about their feet. The wild 



SEA SAVAGERY 31 

eyes, always aloof from our own, 
widened and flashed like the eyes of 
frightened forest creatures. Five 
of them died in Hawley's boat, 
and were Hfted, dripping from the 
water that had been shipped, and 
slipped over the side into the dark 
sea. A sixth died in the second 
officer's boat. 

At daybreak on Jan. 3 the 
master's boat was sighted, a black 
dot among the distant whitecaps; 
and at about eight o'clock he 
rejoined them. He told them that 
he had been unable to find the 
missing boats, and that three 
natives in his own boat had also 
died during the night. 

At four o'clock on the afternoon 
of this day they decided to aban- 
don number one boat, transferring 
the fourth engineer (who was in 



32 OPEN BOATS 

charge of it) with six natives to 
Hawley's boat, and two natives to 
the master's boat. The wind and 
sea increased, and at 4.30 the 
rudder on the master's boat was 
carried away. He then made fast 
astern of the second officer's boat. 
At 5.30 the wind and sea had 
increased so much that the master 
was forced to let go. He set a 
reefed jib; and at daylight on the 
4th there was no sign of him. At 
2 p.m. he was sighted again, 
sailing to the westward. Hawley 
set sail and tried to follow him, but 
he had the second officer's boat 
attached and could not get up to 
him. The last they saw of the 
master's boat was at sunset on the 
fourth, making about west-south- 
west, and finally vanishing into 
the evening light. Sails were 



SEA SAVAGERY 33 

stowed and the boats lay to. The 
sea anchor was used that night, 
and at daybreak Hawley attached 
a bucket to the sea anchor to 
increase its weight. 

At I a.m. on the 5th it was 
decided to abandon number four 
boat, and transfer the second 
officer, fifth engineer, and seven 
natives, with their food and water, 
to Hawley's boat. This was a 
perilous task in a wind and sea so 
boisterous; and during the process 
the rudder of Hawley's boat was 
broken and unshipped. He then 
used an oar, with a goosewinged 
jib as a jigger, to keep head to sea. 

During the forenoon the wind 
rose to a gale, with a high in- 
creasing sea. The boat labored 
heavily and shipped water, and 
heavy sprays burst continually 



34 OPEN BOATS 

over the men as they baled. Oil 
was used, and the baling went on 
without a break. 

At noon on the 5th they sighted 
the smoke of a steamer on the 
south-east, but she drew no nearer, 
and the smoke died away. All 
this time, it must be remembered, 
the men were soaked from head to 
foot by the wintry seas. On Jan. 
6 at six o'clock the second cook 
died from exposure, and the bkie 
frozen body was dropped over- 
board. Half an hour later the 
officers' boy died, and at nine 
o'clock on the same bleak morning 
a fireman died. The burial of 
these dead, the heave and brief 
plunge of the bodies as they 
fightened the boat, were the only 
interruptions to the long monotony 
of the bafing. 



SEA SAVAGERY 35 

At ten o'clock the wind and sea 
moderated a little. Hawley set a 
reefed lug-sail; and, having de- 
cided to make for Alexandria, 
though it was about 250 miles 
distant, he steered E.S.E. At 4.15 
that afternoon another native died, 
and was "buried." 

They sailed all night. At 5 
a.m. on Jan. 7 the wind shifted to 
N.W., and freshened, and the sea 
increased again. At six o'clock 
the captain's boy died (having 
fought hard for life all through the 
night), and his burial left the boat 
still lighter. 

At 7.30 a.m. they put a second 
reef in the lug-sail, and steered S. E. 
At 8 a.m. they sighted a steamer 
on the port-bow, only about three 
miles distant. Cries broke from 
their blackened lips, and they 



36 OPEN BOATS 

made signals of distress by waving 
some of the dead men's clothing, 
a coat and a shirt, on a stick. 

When the steamer sighted the 
boats she headed for them at once, 
and signaled by blowing her 
whistle. At 8.30 they were along- 
side the steamer (the Crown of 
Arragon), and by nine o'clock the 
diminished crews were taken 
aboard. They were all at the 
point of exhaustion. 

On the Crown of Arragon brandy 
and hot coffee and dry clothes were 
given to them. But on the way to 
Malta two more men died from 
the effects of their long exposure. 

The rest was told in a few 
telegrams reporting the case and 
asking that search should be made 
for the missing boats. They were 
never found. "Civilization" is 



SEA SAVAGERY 37 

very big and busy; and one tele- 
gram in reply stated: **No ships 
available." 

But, grimly as this crew was 
thinned out, that of the Whitgift 
fared even worse. The only evi- 
dence of the attack on this ship is 
that of a Japanese, one of the 
crew, who sent a postcard to the 
owners (Messrs. Parker, Hamilton, 
and Company) from a prison camp 
in Germany. All the rest of the 
crew were lost. The postcard ran 
as follows: 

To Miggis, Palkel, Hamilton, and Co. 
June 17, 1916. 
Dear Sirs — I have written you once 
from Hemein, but did not receive any 
answer. I am now in Lager Holzminden, 
Barrack 4. On April 20, 1916, our ship 
has been torpedoed by a German U boat, 
and now I am prisoner. If it is possible, 
I would be very grateful to you if you 



38 OPEN BOATS 

would send me from time to time a parcel 
and money, because all my things are lost, 
and I cannot write to Japan. — Yours, 
Ikehato Saburo. 

The waves of this war break on 
every coast in the world, and the 
sound of them washes over every 
Continent, bringing sorrow to the 
remotest ends of the earth. In 
the early days of the war I met an 
old gardener on the coast of Maine. 
He was a Scot by birth, but had 
been an American citizen for over 
half a century. **My son went 
back to Scotland," he told me, "to 
see some of my folks at home, and 
he took up mine-sweeping. He 
was drowned just off Aberdeen, 
where I was born." 

But it is almost equally danger- 
ous for neutral seamen to engage 
in the humane work of bringing 



SEA SAVAGERY 39 

food to Belgium. The Greek 
steamer Embiricos was taking a 
cargo of maize for the Belgian 
Relief Committee when she was 
sunk by a submarine in the Chan- 
nel. The crew were put into open 
boats at nightfall, though the 
weather was very stormy, with a 
wild rain, and the sea ran moun- 
tains high. 

The Greek captain, John Pala- 
ocrassas, lost sight of the second 
boat (there were only two) as 
they were going before the wind 
and sea. He tried to go back and 
find them, but found it impossible, 
and went on his way burning 
paraffin flares. 

They saw the flash of the Lizard 
Light across the tumult of the 
storm, and a steamer passed them, 
"like a great hotel," with lights 



40 OPEN BOATS 

out. The men shouted, the cap- 
tain blew his whistle, and the flare 
— which was about 50-candIe- 
power — must have been seen. In 
these waters, however, at night, a 
large steamer is apt to suspect the 
tricks of the U boat in any un- 
usual signals, and cannot take too 
many risks. 

At last they encountered the 
green light of one of our heroic 
little Brixham trawlers, and heard 
the reassuring shout, **AII right!'* 
The sea was so rough that it was 
after midnight when they were 
hauled aboard. They searched the 
sea, as thoroughly as possible in 
that wild weather, but the other 
boat with her crew of twelve Greek 
seamen was never seen again. So 
much for the German tenderness 
towards the Kingdom of Greece. 



CHAPTER III 
THE UNFORESEEN 

The victims of the "open boat" 
system do not all die as quickly as 
the women and children of the 
Lusitania, but "civilization" is 
much too big and busy to keep 
count of the numerous obscure 
murders of the innocent and help- 
less at sea. We are told that their 
deaths are "unforeseeable." We 
are not told whether any "place 
of safety" had been arranged for 
the crew of the Margam Abbey, 
but her master was approached at 
Seattle, Tacoma, Panama and Rio 
Janeiro by certain mysterious 



42 OPEN BOATS 

agents and offered large sums of 
money if his steamer never arrived 
in France. This is the new war- 
fare. When he refused, he was 
threatened with a place of eternal 
safety for his own personal benefit. 
And Robert Louis Stevenson used 
to be reproached by the "crickets" 
for his "romantic" aloofness from 
the realities of our ordered life! 
My only criticism to-day is that 
this too real romance, confronted 
quite squarely by a contemporary, 
in an inn at Rio Janeiro, looks un- 
commonly like the bloodiest kind 
of murder. 

One of the most curious methods 
of treating the crew of an attacked 
merchant ship is revealed in the 
case of the S.S. La Belle France. 
On Jan. 31, 19 16, she left Port 
Said for Dieppe, via Algiers, with 



THE UNFORESEEN 43 

a cargo of rapeseed, linseed, and 
barley from Karachi. She was 
unarmed for offense or defense. 
All went well till 2 p.m. on Feb. 
I, when, without any warning, the 
ship was struck by a torpedo on 
the starboard side in the way of 
the cross-bunker holds. She listed 
heavily to starboard at once, and 
made much water, the hatches 
from No. 2 and the cross-bunker 
holds being burst open. 

All hands were promptly called 
to the boat-stations, where the 
boats had already been swung out 
in case of attack. No. i lifeboat 
on the starboard side was then 
found to be broken by the con- 
cussion, and useless. International 
lawyers may well take note of this 
very common aspect of these at- 
tacks on merchant shipping. 



44 OPEN BOATS 

The ship was Hsting more and 
more heavily, and all hands were 
ordered to the port-side boats, two 
of which were lowered by the 
master and officers. The lascar 
crews were ordered to keep close 
alongside the ship, but they became 
panic-stricken in the face of the 
new *'frightfulness," and cast off 
from the ship without orders. The 
master and three other officers 
jumped into the boats from the 
deck. The chief officer, who was 
standing by the falls, and the chief 
engineer, who was stopping the 
engines, were left on board as the 
boats drifted away. 

The chief officer dived over- 
board, and was picked up by No. 
3 boat. The chief engineer, being 
unable to swim, remained on board 
till, as the vessel righted herself. 



THE UNFORESEEN 45 

he succeeded in getting into No. 2 
starboard boat, which was partly 
lowered. After about half an hour 
he was picked up by No. 3 boat. 

No. 4 boat, in the meantime, 
had capsized. Some of the crew 
were swimming, and others were 
clinging to her bottom. The sub- 
marine rose to the surface, came 
alongside, and picked up these 
men. No. 3 boat was then called 
alongside the submarine by the 
officer in command, and was 
ordered to stand by. The officer 
of the submarine took his revolver 
and threatened to shoot both crews 
if they came nearer. 

At this moment, four trawlers 
were seen on the horizon, and the 
submarine, subhmely obHvious of 
the shivering men it had Just 
hauled on to its deck, dived with 



46 OPEN BOATS 

the whole bunch of them still 
standing there, and left them to 
flounder to the surface as best they 
could. Some of them were saved 
by No. 2 boat, but nineteen were 
drowned, a good many being 
sucked down by the diving sub- 
marine. A delay of a very few 
seconds, of course, would have 
made it possible to save them all. 
But the whole aff'air throws a 
curious light on the German 
method. It might be described as 
the tempering of mercy with cal- 
lousness, and reminds one of the 
nonsense-world of Edward Lear, 
whose creatures regarded one 
another with aff'ectionate disgust. 

The most excessive caution 
could hardly have regarded this 
action as necessary to the safety 
of the U boat, for the trawlers at 



THE UNFORESEEN 47 

this time were many miles away, 
black dots on the horizon. It 
seems to be one of many examples 
of a curious whimsicalit;y that 
breaks (by way of reaction per- 
haps) through the systematic soul 
of the German. He has carried 
his logic to the point of madness, 
and perhaps some law of com- 
pensation demands that it should 
be offset by an equally insane 
capriciousness. There seems to be 
no other explanation of the gnome- 
like cruelties that have crept out 
of his once music-haunted moun- 
tains. On one occasion, a tem- 
porarily merciful German com- 
mander kindly offered to tow some 
open boats, which had been 
damaged and were leaking badly, 
into a place of safety. He saw 
some aircraft in the distance, after 



48 OPEN BOATS 

the boats had been made fast, and 
he promptly dived with the boats 
behind him, not even waiting to 
cast loose. It was only after a 
frantic struggle and wild hacking 
with knives at tangled ropes in 
blind whirlpools, that these men 
escaped with their lives. There 
is, no doubt, a certain grotesque 
humor about this, from the Ger- 
man point of view, but when nine- 
teen lives are lost, and nineteen 
homes desolated, the laugh can 
hardly be a very hearty one, even 
in the cities of the new civilization. 
It becomes more and more 
difficult, however, in a world-war 
that seems to have grown too big 
for the human intellect, to keep 
more than a few of the facts before 
us at one time. One finds, over 
and over again, well-meaning 



THE UNFORESEEN 49 

people who shudder at these 
hideous aspects of the matter, but 
are content to regard them as a 
part of the new "sea warfare.*' 
They are unable to retain, ap- 
parently, more than half a dozen 
ideas simultaneously, unable to 
realize that all this has no relation 
whatsoever to "warfare," that 
these men were non-combatants on 
merchant ships, and that in a great 
many cases they were the citizens 
and the ships of neutral countries. 
Nobody who can retain all these 
facts simultaneously can come to 
any other conclusion than that the 
charge is one of wilful murder on 
the high seas. Undoubtedly our 
world has grown too big for us. 

It is difficult to imagine what 
must be the sensations of some of 
these merchant seamen, men who 



50 OPEN BOATS 

have been occupying their business 
in fishing or coasting trade and 
suddenly find themselves menaced 
by all these strange new devilries. 
Sometimes the menace is as weird 
and unexpected as a descent of 
squadrons from another planet. 
The Franz Fischer, more or less on 
her guard against attack from the 
sea, was surprised by an attack 
from the skies of quite a new kind. 
The Franz Fischer was a coasting 
trader of about 970 gross tons. 
She left Hartlepool for Cowes, with 
a cargo of coal, on Jan. 31, 19 16. 
She was unarmed. 

About 9.30 p.m. on Feb. i the 
ship was informed by a torpedo- 
boat that there were floating mines 
ahead. James Henry Birch, the 
chief engineer, said that at this 
time the weather was very fine, 



THE UNFORESEEN 51 

with no wind or sea, but it was 
black dark. The engines were 
working full speed ahead, and the 
ship would be about sixteen miles 
N.N.E. of the Kentish Knock. 
The master hailed him through 
the engine-room skyhght, told him 
of the warning, and said he had 
decided to anchor. The ship 
anchored at about ten o'clock, 
and had two white anchor hghts 
burning. The chief engineer went 
on deck to the cabin, which was 
amidships, to see the master. 

While they were sitting in the 
cabin, talking, they heard a faint 
noise of aircraft. The mate, who 
had just come off the bridge, called 
to them through the partition 
from his own cabin, asking them 
if they heard it. The master 
replied, "Yes, what is it?" The 



52 OPEN BOATS 

mate said he did not know, but, 
whatever it was, it was coming 
from the south-east. The sound 
then appeared to die away, but in 
about two minutes it became deaf- 
ening. They got up to see what 
it was, and went through the short 
alley-way towards the deck. Just 
as Birch opened the door leading 
on to the deck there was a terrific 
explosion, and the master and him- 
self were knocked down back into 
the cabin, partly by the concussion 
and partly by a great mass of sea- 
water which had been heaved up 
by the explosion. When they were 
on their feet again they found they 
were soaking wet. 

The ship steadied after the con- 
cussion, and everything seemed all 
right for a few moments. Birch 
rushed to the engine-room to call 



THE UNFORESEEN 53 

"all hands on deck''; but, just as 
he got there, the second-mate, 
second-engineer, steward, donkey- 
men, and mess-room boy came on 
deck. They were all nearly naked, 
as they had been roused from sleep. 

By this time the ship was taking 
a heavy list to port. Birch and 
some of the crew^ hurried round to 
the starboard hfe-boat, where some 
of the remainder were already 
assembled. One sailor was in the 
hfe-boat, which was swung out 
ready for lowering. The ship was 
rapidly falHng over to port. Her 
funnel was still intact, but it was 
too dark to see if the masts were 
standing. 

In a few more seconds all the 
men were half-way to the bottom 
of the sea, fighting for hfe in a 
black whirlpool. The ship had 



54 OPEN BOATS 

sunk like a stone. When Birch 
came gasping to the surface he 
looked round for any wreckage 
that might be floating, and saw 
the hfe-belt box which had stood 
on the bridge. He managed to 
get hold of this. Others of the 
crew swam up, until about eight 
naked men were hanging on to the 
"reasonable place of safety" which 
had been so thoughtfully provided 
for them. 

The scene that followed in the 
pitch-black sea was a somewhat 
ghastly one. Some of the men 
tried to climb on top of the box, 
with the result that it rolled over, 
and, when it righted, several of 
them were missing. These panic- 
stricken efforts to climb out of the 
water — a common occurrence in 
such cases with men who are not 



THE UNFORESEEN ^^ 

practised swimmers, and many 
sailors are not — were repeated with 
horrible insistence, and, each time, 
the box rolled over and rose with 
fewer men, gulping and clutching 
and cursing. At last Birch swam 
away from the box as the best way 
of saving his own life. He found a 
life-belt, which he put round him 
as best he could, and managed to 
keep afloat. After a time he lost 
consciousness, and when he re- 
covered he was in a life-boat 
belonging to the Belgian steamer 
Paul. The steward and another 
sailor were also in the boat. They 
were taken aboard the Paul and 
given dry clothes and hot coffee, 
about eight o'clock in the morn- 
ing; but in their one night of horror 
they must have lived considerably 
more than the allotted span of life. 



56 OPEN BOATS 

This attack on an unarmed ship 
at anchor had undoubtedly been 
made by a Zeppelin. One of the 
men on the bridge said afterwards 
that the aircraft seemed to be 
circling overhead in the darkness, 
dropping closer and closer to the 
vessel, like a great night-hawk 
attracted by the white anchor- 
lights. It grew much louder than 
an aeroplane — more like "several 
express trains all crossing a bridge 
together"; and at its loudest it 
was impossible to hear a man 
shout. Then there came a sudden 
silence, followed by the terrific 
explosion, which flung the men 
about and dazed them. 

It would be interesting to know 
how Germany would reconcile this 
attack with her well-known regard 
for international law. Possibly it 



THE UNFORESEEN ^^ 

was a "mistake." She may have 
mistaken a ship, with so German 
a name, for a fortified city like 
Scarborough, or perhaps for a 
cathedral in disguise. 



CHAPTER IV 
A PRUSSIAN 

"The last we saw of the captain's boat 
was .... They drifted away. We 
never saw them again." .... 

This is the burden of a hundred 
tales, true tales, that are so plain 
and simple that I believe very few 
people realize their meaning. It 
seems inconceivable otherwise that 
a civilized world should allow the 
sickening work to continue, as it 
does, day after day and night after 
night, in this bleak winter — a work 
of murder against unarmed men 
on the high seas. "Open boats!'* 
What a mockery is that safeguard 
58 



A PRUSSIAN 59 

in the face of the Lusitania out- 
rage. But the mockery does not 
stir the world. Our civilization 
has neither eyes to see nor ears to 
hear, unless the case be a very 
large and sensational one. How 
many people have heard, for in- 
stance, of the Tringa? She was 
a ship of over 2,000 tons, and 
carried a crew of only twenty-five 
men. What are twenty-five men 
to civilization? To German civil- 
ization they are less important 
than cats' meat. As for the neutral 
world, the cries of drowning men 
must come from at least fifteen 
hundred throats in order to be 
heard at all. Undoubtedly our 
civilization has grown too big for 
us, and no human cry will halt a 
wheel of it. On a certain cold 
November day the crew of the 



6o OPEN BOATS 

Tringa saw the wake of a torpedo 
pass under her stern. Immediately 
afterwards a submarine appeared 
on her starboard quarter about 
four hundred yards away. She 
opened fire at once on the unarmed 
ship. This is the narrative of one 
of the crew: 

We blew three blasts on the whistle to 
indicate that we were trying to stop the 
ship; but she still continued to fire. One 
shot crashed right through the crew's 
quarters. We immediately lowered three 
boats, and got all the crew away from 
the ship. The U boat circled round to 
the portside, and still continued to fire 
at the ship. She passed close to the boats 
while she was firing, and fragments of the 
ship fell among them. The last shot 
caused a heavy explosion. The ship went 
down shortly afterwards, stern first. 

The submarine was painted a 
dirty white and was flying the 



A PRUSSIAN 6 1 

Austrian flag. Three men were on 
the platform, and one in the conning 
tower. Having done her worst, 
she disappeared, without troubling 
about the human derelicts. 

"The weather was very bad," continues 
one of the survivors, "and a high sea was 
running. We drifted for forty-two hours 
in the open boat, baling continually, for 
we were shipping heavy seas. The last 
we saw of the captain, in the life-boat, 
with thirteen men, was on Friday even- 
ing at 5.30. He was drifting to eastward. 
We were picked up by a steamer at eight 
o'clock on Sunday morning.'* 

"The last we saw . . ."is not 
the last glimpse of the mind's eye, 
however, for those who have the 
heart to picture the last agonies of 
the missing men. A Roman poet 
once declared that it was pleasant 
to stand in safety upon the shore 
and watch others battling for life 



62 OPEN BOATS 

with the waves. One fears that 
there must have been a Prussian 
streak in Lucretius; but the senti- 
ment, in a less extreme form, is 
a common one. Certainly it is 
pleasant to most men to see an 
enemy battling with the waves of 
his own anger, especially when he 
is the commander of a U boat. 

The Chantala was an unarmed 
British ship, and she was torpedoed 
without warning. The crew had 
all taken to the boats. It was 
hazy weather, with a long swell, a 
light breeze, and what sailors call 
**Iow visibility." The boats lay to 
for nearly an hour, without sight- 
ing the submarine, and, as the ship 
had not yet shown signs of sinking, 
the master decided to return to her. 
The U boat, however, was evi- 
dently watching them like a lynx 



A PRUSSIAN 63 

— an easy matter with a periscope 
that is almost invisible at a few 
hundred yards distance. As soon 
as the master's boat began to pull 
towards the ship there was a 
*Svhizzing noise/' and a shell 
passed overhead, striking the water 
very near them. Then the sub- 
marine appeared, about a mile 
away, rushing up at full speed. 
The boat was stopped at once, but 
four more rounds were fired direct- 
ly at her, and narrowly missed 
her. The submarine then fired 
ten rounds at the ship, seven of 
which crashed into the stern. It 
was evidently a highly excitable 
submarine, for she broke off this 
amusement abruptly and came 
tearing for the boats, with her 
commander bellowing: ''Where's 
your captain? Come on board 



64 OPEN BOATS 

you English dog! You murderer! 
You bastard!" 

The master got his boat along- 
side, and the German commander 
swore at his own men, struck 
them and kicked them, for not 
fending her off properly. The 
master was then told to come to 
the conning tower, which he did. 
There the submarine captain 
caught him by the throat, threat- 
ening to hang him and using very 
foul language. One of the sailors 
described him as "a short man, 
with fair hair, a glassy eye, clean 
shaven, and about as foul-mouthed 
as a pigstye." The submarine 
captain said that his brother had 
been murdered by the Baralong, 
but it was more than likely that 
he never had a brother, for he was 
apparently ready to say anything 



A PRUSSIAN 65 

that came into his head, with a 
decided preference for what was 
violently untrue. It is a mood 
well known to psychologists and 
to every judge in the criminal 
courts. It is the way of the weak 
man, seeking to impress or terrorize 
those who are temporarily in his 
power. He asked the master the 
name of his ship and her port of 
departure. The German did not 
deny the name of the ship, but 
when the master named the port 
of ** London" he replied, "You 
dirty dog, I know you called at 
Plymouth." Probably he had 
been reading of the exploits of 
Devonshire seamen. He then 
abused the master at more length, 
took three snapshots of him, and 
ordered him back to his boat. The 
natives in the boat's crew began 



66 OPEN BOATS 

salaaming to the submarine com- 
mander, who returned the compli- 
ment by spitting at them and 
calling them "dirty black dogs/' 

The submarine then sent a boat 
to the ship, and after looting her 
of a considerable amount of port- 
able property, including a crate of 
prize fowls, they sank her with 
time-fuse bombs. The crew of the 
Chantala were left in their open 
boats, eighteen miles from land. 
But in this case only the eight 
seamen who were killed by the 
first unexpected explosion lost their 
lives. The "only eight," however, 
is commentary enough on the 
present state of civilization and 
the impotence of international law. 

The brutality of the open-boat 
system of dealing with passengers 
and crews of merchant ships is well 



A PRUSSIAN 67 

illustrated by the case of the Chic. 
On April 13 the Chic was about 
forty-five miles south-west of the 
Fastnet Lighthouse, in the Atlantic 
Ocean. There was a strong west- 
erly breeze and a confused sea, in 
which small open boats could not 
be launched without great risk to 
life. A submarine suddenly ap- 
peared on the starboard side and 
began shelling the ship, which was 
unarmed. She stopped at once, 
and the crew were ordered to 
abandon her. An effort was made 
to lower the port life-boat, but it 
was caught by a sea and lifted 
quite slack in the blocks. On 
release, when the sea subsided, it 
dropped heavily. The after-gear 
was carried away. The carpenter, 
who was entangled in the rope, was 
nearly strangled. A seaman 



68 OPEN BOATS 

named Creighton, who was in the 
boat, was flung into the water, 
well clear of the ship. A Hfe- 
buoy was thrown to him, but he 
was heavily clothed, probably 
wearing sea-boots, and he was 
drowned. The boat rapidly filled. 
Eff'orts were made to bale her, but 
she was found to be too badly 
damaged to be seaworthy. The 
submarine, however, was not con- 
cerned with these trivial matters 
of common humanity. She was 
concerned with great things Hke 
the impersonal movement of the 
stars, the destiny of Germany, and 
the God who is undoubtedly **mit 
uns.'' She was now on the port 
side of the ship, with her conning- 
tower and part of her body show- 
ing. They were painted an "in- 
visible green." The conning- 



A PRUSSIAN 69 

tower, the engineer of the Chic 
noted, had four brass cylinders. 

She dipped and appeared again, 
several times, in quick succession; 
and at about 11.30, when she was 
submerged, there was a dull, thud- 
ding explosion, and the Chic vi- 
brated, with sounds of escaping 
steam. Volumes of steam and 
smoke poured from the engine- 
room, stoke-hold, ventilators, and 
all entrances. The ship heeled to 
starboard, and a huge mass of 
green water washed over the lower 
deck from port to starboard. The 
ship seemed to be sinking. The 
second engineer jumped into the 
water, and was picked up by the 
starboard hfe-boat, in which there 
were sixteen other men. She pulled 
clear, and waited for the jolly boat, 
which had been lowered, with 



70 OPEN BOATS 

about eight men in her. The sub- 
marine had now done her duty, 
apparently, and had finally dis- 
appeared. The second engineer 
described the result of this abom- 
inable crime as follows, and I give 
it as nearly as possible in his own 
words : 

The captain in the jolly boat hailed 
us, telling us to get out our sea anchor 
and come closer, so that he could put a 
navigating officer aboard. The second 
officer, who had the necessary instruments 
in his case, prepared to come aboard the 
life-boat; but, owing to the heavy sea, the 
first attempt very nearly led to a bad 
collision, and the jolly boat was forced to' 
stand off. They had their sea anchor 
out, and we were told to drift with them. 
Verbal communication from boat to boat 
was impossible owing to the boisterous 
weather, and, as it was impossible to pull 
against the sea, we drifted, according to 
the captain's last orders, taking care at 



A PRUSSIAN 71 

every opportunity to keep them in sight, 
so that we should not be parted. It was 
clear that we were making more way than 
the captain's boat, but knowing that they 
were in a position to come up to us we 
took it for granted that the captain had 
some purpose in view. The distance in- 
creased till we had some difficulty in seeing 
them, but whenever they rose to sight 
on the crests they seemed to be riding 
the sea well. They showed no signals. 
The last we saw of the captain's boat 
was about 3 p.m. She was then about 
three-quarters of a mile away. At this 
time the weather was very rough, the sea 
confused, and we were shipping much 
water. We had a consultation, and de- 
cided not to alter our course till darkness 
set in, trusting that the weather would 
abate, or that the other boat would come 
up to us, and that we should be able to 
communicate. Darkness set in about 
7.30, and we hove to. Nothing further 
was seen of the captain's boat. Even- 
tually we set sail and struck a course in 



72 OPEN BOATS 

the hope of making the south of Ireland. 
We saw one ship's light, but did not hail 
her. The next morning, about 8 a.m., 
we were taken aboard the S.S. GlengarifF. 

Could anything illustrate more 
completely the chaotic brutality of 
the present defiance of interna- 
tional law at sea. It is simply a 
tale of murder, foul and unnatural 
— a most damning indictment of 
the new German civilization. The 
Allies are fighting the criminal. I 
do not see how neutrals can fail, at 
least, to pass their moral judgment 
upon him. If they do not do so 
openly, there are only two ex- 
planations. The first is, that they 
do so secretly, but the German 
"fright fulness" has muzzled them; 
the second is, that a great part of 
the human race has terribly de- 
ceived itself about its own char- 



A PRUSSIAN 73 

acter. No contempt can be too 
complete for the perpetrators of 
this outrage against every chival- 
rous instinct that has ever found 
a brief lodging in the unhappy 
heart of man. 



CHAPTER V 

MAGNIFICOES AND THE 
DEAD 

The attitude of the Central 
Powers towards the open boat 
murders is an entirely cynical one. 
Enough has already been said to 
show that, in the very nature of 
things, there can be no foreseen 
security for passengers and crews 
consigned to open boats many 
miles out of sight of land. And 
this is the cynical method of im- 
posing upon credulous landsmen 
adopted by the Central Powers: 
Note Verbale. 

Vienna, Oct. 25, 1916. 

The Imperial and Royal Ministry of 
Foreign Affairs has the honour to bring 

74 



MAGNIFICOES AND THE DEAD 75 

the following information, received from 
the Imperial and Royal Ministry of War, 
Naval Division, to the knowledge of the 
American Embassy. The steamer Win- 
dermere was sunk by mechanical devices 
by a detached crew from an Austro- 
Hungarian submarine, after the steamer*s 
crew had left the ship in well-equipped 
life-boats. Nothing further is known to 
the Imperial and Royal authorities about 
the crew's fate. In view of the fact that, 
at the critical time, there was fine weather, 
only a slight breeze and a moderate sea, 
any accident the boat might have met 
with would, in the opinion of the Imperial 
and Royal Ministry of War, Naval Divi- 
sion, have to be ascribed to an event not 
to be foreseen. 

In other words, the Central 
Powers deliberately reason from 
incomplete premises. This, in 
fact, is the explanation throughout 
of the amazing German logic. You 
can prove anything you like if 



76 OPEN BOATS 

you are allowed to choose your 
your own premises. It is the 
main danger of logic in the com- 
plicated modern world. Hardly 
ever can you get a complete state- 
ment of the factors in any political 
or social or philosophic problem. 
This is probably the reason for the 
success of the illogical British at- 
titude towards all these matters. 
We can never accept any "-ism" 
as the whole truth, because we 
know instinctively that the last 
word can never be said by mortal 
man on any subject of this kind. 
But we must assume that, in the 
last result, the dice are loaded on 
the side of the angels, in favor of 
righteousness; and that there is an 
eternal basis for the right. There 
is no way out of the chaos which 
"agnosticism" has been preparing 



MAGNIFICOES AND THE DEAD 77 

for our civilization but a return to 
at least this irreducible minimum 
of a creed. Otherwise, the deluge 
will indeed follow. Germany has 
proved that customs and conven- 
tions are vahieless without some 
fundamental sanction. 

The '* unforeseen event" in the 
case of the Windermere came about 
thus: She was a steamer bound 
from Tyne Dock to Savona, in 
Italy, with a cargo of coal. When 
she left Gibraltar the weather— as 
the Imperial and Royal Magnifi- 
coes asserted — was clear and fine. 
The wind was in the east, blowing 
lightly, with a smooth sea. At 
4.30 in the afternoon she was mak- 
ing about eight knots, when an 
unknown steamer was sighted on 
the western horizon, about six 
miles away, and the report of a 



78 OPEN BOATS 

gun was heard. The chief officer, 
John Fergusson, saw through his 
glasses that there was a submarine, 
about two miles distant, between 
himself and the steamer. He called 
the master from the chart-room, 
and he ordered the helm to be put 
hard aport. The U boat then 
fired a shell, which passed about 
twenty yards a-star board. The 
ship was stopped, and all hands 
were ordered to the boats: but 
another shell was fired while they 
were actually engaged in this. 
Fergusson and eleven men got into 
No. I life-boat, while the master 
and eleven men got into the other. 
By this time the submarine was 
close at hand, and one of her 
officers asked for the master, who 
stood up in the boat. The officer 
asked various questions about the 



MAGNIFICOES AND THE DEAD 79 

ship, and eventually gave the 
master the course to Port Mahon. 
The master asked the distance, 
and was told that it was about 
forty miles. Now, every sailor 
knows, unless he be an Imperial 
and Royal Magnifico of the Naval 
Division of the Austrian Ministry 
of War, that nothing can be "fore- 
seen" about the fate of open boats 
forty miles from land. The chief 
officer's boat made more headway 
than the master's, as her sail was 
larger; and three times she turned 
in order to keep company with 
him. Arthur Brace, the second 
engineer, gave the following ac- 
count of the unforeseeable: 

"The third time we stopped the master 
said to the mate, 'Keep more to the 
south.' After that we did not get into 
speaking distance, and we saw her light 



8o OPEN BOATS 

for the last time about ii p.m. She 
was apparently following the same course 
as ourselves. We held on our course till 
we sighted Majorca, about noon on the 
following day, and ran past the light- 
house point into a small bay (Las 
Sabinas). We landed on the beach, and 
were taken to an inn, where we had 
supper, and slept." 

The rest was telegrams from 
anxious relatives to the owners, 
and from the owners to the Admir- 
alty; those curiously pleading tele- 
grams in which the human emotion 
is expressed unconsciously, by the 
pathetic implication that those in 
authority may somehow change 
bad news into good. "We do hope 
that you will soon send us news of 
missing boat. Relatives anxious.'' 
**We sincerely trust that . . ." 
But the ** unforeseeable'' had hap- 
pened. The missing boat was 



MAGNIFICOES AND THE DEAD 8i 

never found, though six feluccas 
were despatched to search for her; 
and there was nothing left to tele- 
graph but "our deep regret." The 
sea keeps her secrets well. 

The plea of ** unforeseeable" is, 
of course, vitiated by the plain fact 
that hundreds of men have been 
forced to fight with every known 
danger of the sea in their '*open 
boats." The crew of the Scottish 
Monarch (a small ship, with a 
cargo of sugar) could certainly 
foresee something of the fate that 
was in store for them, when they 
were attacked by a U boat about 
forty miles south from the Bally- 
cotton Light. After four rounds 
of shell from the pursuing sub- 
marine, which holed the ship on 
the port side, the master stopped 
the engines and ordered all hands 



82 OPEN BOATS 

to the boats, which were success- 
fully launched. The master at 
first refused to leave the ship, and 
remained on the bridge, while the 
submarine continued firing at her, 
till she began to sink. The chief 
officer then asked permission by 
signs to take off the master, and 
the enemy ceased firing until this 
was done. When the master left 
her the decks of the Scottish 
Monarch were awash. The master 
and nineteen of the crew were in 
one boat, and fifteen of the crew 
were in the other. The two boats 
kept together till dark; but at 8.40 
the chief officer's boat capsized 
owing to the choppy sea, and sight 
of the other boat was lost in the 
confusion. All hands, after a 
struggle, managed to regain the 
boat, but she remained full of 



MAGNIFICOES AND THE DEAD 83 

water, with her tanks adrift. Be- 
fore midnight she had again cap- 
sized three times, and the reader 
may imagine for himself what 
scenes were enacted in that lonely 
darkness of wind and sea. Only 
four hands out of the fifteen were 
left at the end of the third des- 
perate struggle. They were the 
mate, the carpenter, and two sea- 
men. They saw one or two vessels 
in the early morning, but their 
only means of signaling was a 
handkerchief on a stick, and they 
were not noticed. 

The boat was battered to and 
fro like a cockle-shell in the smok- 
ing seas, and about eight o'clock in 
the morning the two seamen be- 
came too exhausted to cling on. 
They were slowly washed over- 
board. Their faces and hands 



84 OPEN BOATS 

swirled up once or twice in the 
foam, and then disappeared. At 
five o'clock on that day, after long 
hours of struggle, the mate, who 
was sitting aft, gradually dropped 
into the water in the bottom of the 
boat, and died there. The car- 
penter was now the only survivor. 
All that he endured in the long 
following night and day, with the 
dead man washing to and fro at 
his feet, and the dead face looking 
up at him through the bubbling 
water, can only be imagined. He 
says that "nothing particular'' 
happened. At night-fall on the 
next day, more than twenty-four 
hours later, twenty-four hours of 
lonely battering and slow starva- 
tion, he and the dead body were 
picked up by a Grimsby trawler 
and landed at St. Ives. Nothing 



MAGNIFICOES AND THE DEAD 85 

was ever heard of the other boat. 
But from what we know we can 
conjecture what happened to the 
unknown. It is a tale to rouse the 
whole civilized world, if any civil- 
ization be left. For these were 
non-combatants on a small ship, 
entirely unarmed for offense or 
defense, and carrying only a cargo 
of sugar! 

But the most amazing tale of all 
is perhaps that of the Coquette. 
The crew were forced to abandon 
her in two open boats, by a sub- 
marine which first looted the ship 
and then sank her. (She was a 
steamer of 4,000 tons, carrying 
salt.) The master protested 
against being set adrift in boats 
which had been damaged and were 
leaking badly. There were seven- 
teen men in the master's boat, and 



86 OPEN BOATS 

fourteen in that of the chief officer. 
They lost touch with one another 
after the second night, and the 
master's boat drifted for six days 
and nights. Finally it made land 
at Res Hamanas, in North Africa. 
Two stokers were despatched along 
the coast to look for help, and, soon 
after they had gone, the other 
fifteen ship-wrecked men were at- 
tacked by Bedouin Arabs. The 
master said that the Arabs ap- 
peared to have a queer chivalry of 
their own. They shot chiefly at the 
two biggest men, severely wound- 
ing himself and another. Three men, 
however, were killed, and ten were 
taken as prisoners into the interior 
and held to ransom. A flying 
column was despatched in search 
of them, and eventually the ten 
survivors reached England. But 



MAGNIFICOES AND THE DEAD 87 

the chief officer's boat was never 
heard of again. It was an "open" 
boat, and its loss was due no doubt 
to events that could not be fore- 
seen. 

These atrocities, committed upon 
non-combatants, neutrals as well 
as those belonging to belligerent 
nations, in un-barred as well as In 
barred zones, have received less 
attention than those committed 
upon land. The most terrible con- 
sequence of the general murder 
— outside the belligerent nations — 
to the new "frightfulness" (the 
principles of which were laid down 
in military text-books before the 
war, so that no excuse of "des- 
peration" is valid) is that great 
numbers of civilized people have 
been taught to ignore all distinc- 
tions between right and wrong. 



88 OPEN BOATS 

It is obvious that if civilization 
is not to sink beneath the con- 
tempt of the ape, some foresight 
will have to be exercised by those 
who are responsible for the main- 
tenance of international law, and 
some action ought to be taken to 
bring the criminals to justice. ' If 
the strength of the criminal be 
the only thought, then civiliza- 
tion has made the last surrender. 
But it is also obvious that the 
success of the U boat is almost 
entirely confined to its attacks 
upon unarmed merchant ships, 
and very frequently neutral ships. 
How many times have we heard 
of their success in real sea-warfare? 
This is the heart of the whole 
matter, and it requires the most 
urgent consideration. 



EPILOGUE 

KILMENY 

Dark, dark lay the drifters against the 
red West, 
As they shot their long meshes of steel 
overside, 
And the oily green waters were rocking 
to rest, 
When Kilmeny went out, at the turn 
of the tide; 
And nobody knew where that lassie 
would roam. 
For the magic that called her was 
tapping unseen, 
It was well nigh a week ere Kilmeny 
came home; 
And nobody knew where Kilmeny had 
been. 

She'd a gun at her bow that was 
Newcastle's best, 

89 



90 EPILOGUE 

And a gun at her stern that was fresh 
from the Clyde; 
And a secret her skipper had never con- 
fessed, 
Not even at dawn, to his newly-wed 
bride; 
And a wireless that whispered above, like 
a gnome, 
The laughter of London, the boasts of 
Berlin; 
O, it may have been mermaids that lured 
her from home; 
But nobody knew where Kilmeny had 
been. 

It was dark when Kilmeny came home 

from her quest. 
With a bridge dabbled red where her 

skipper had died, 
But she moved like a bride with a rose 

at her breast, 
And *^WeII done, Kilmeny," the 

Admiral cried. 
Now, at sixty-four fathom, a conger may 

come, 



h 



*^ RD-eg 



EPILOGUE 

And nose at the bones of a drowned 
submarine; 
But — late in the evening Kilmeny came 
home; 
And nobody knew where Kilmeny had 
been. 

There's a wandering shadow that stares 
at the foam — 
Though they sing all the night to old 
England, their queen — 
Late, late in the evening, Kilmeny came 
home; 
And nobody knew where Kilmeny had 
been. 



V -^ 




o V 




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* ST. AUGUSTINE ^^^jQiy^* W^" 



DOBBS BROS. 

LianARV BINOINQ 








